Chronicles of Xiranth
by YourCompleteDemise
Summary: A challenge. It's all she wants from life, but it never seems to come. Her god-like powers are beyond a joke at this point, and luck just isn't on her side. That is, until one fateful day...
1. Totally Typical Beginnings

**Heyo. Remember me? The GREATEST author on FanFiction? Yes? 'Cuz you better, because I have a terrible trollfic- I mean, the best thing ever right here!**

 **Nah, seriously. Welcome to a short fic full of stupidity. This is a rewrite of a thing I started a while back, and here it is now. Every chapter is written, so don't expect this one to be cancelled anymore. I've improved the prose a little (but not much as to retain its trolliness XD). Yeah, not much to say here, but... have fun, maybe? It's probably really bad, but I guess that's kind of the point. XD**

* * *

Totally Typical Beginnings

 _Normal_. Conforming to a standard. Something usual, typical, or expected. The word was largely subjective – it all depended on what a singular person thought was normal. And that definition totally didn't come off of everyone's favourite, _normal_ search engine.

Xiranth definitely wasn't said word. A dragoness covered in golden scales, glistening in the sun's dying light. They made her look like a goddess, and that wasn't far from the truth.

For Xiranth, being said word, _normal_ , was blasting around at supersonic speeds, trying to catch a figure that'd thieved her precious apple. Despite its unlikelihood, this seemed to happen to her every single day of the week.

"Look, buddy," she said. She careened through a solid rock building her target was trying to evade. "What is with you and my apples? Can't you let me eat?"

Why Xiranth desired to feast on apples was beyond even her. Really, the predicament didn't make much sense, anyway. How did one outrun the fastest thing alive?

"And why would I do that, _Xanaphy_?" the figure in the midst of being pursued called back. "What makes you think I will give you _my_ apple?"

"I'll blast you to smithereens, that's what." Xiranth quickly felled a tower she was soaring toward. The streets of Warfang were turning to ruin rather quickly; although, nobody seemed to notice. Perhaps it was the sheer speed she was flying at. Perhaps she was shooting through the marketplace so swiftly she was slowing the course of time itself. "And it's Xiranth, not _Xanaphy_."

"Aww, wittle _Xirvantes_ can't take a practical joke..." Her adversary cackled maniacally. "It's only an apple. Why's it so important to you?"

Xiranth couldn't stop herself from getting just a little mad. A searing beam of light cut a gaping hole into every last thing in front of her, slicing the city ahead in two. How her dull-witted target managed to slink away from the destruction unharmed was remarkable. They were definitely quick on their feet.

For our golden dragoness, however, this annoyed her. She didn't give a damn about the city she'd turned to dust with her weaponised maw, the innocent lives she'd ended. All that mattered was her apple. This thing and its greedy mitts wasn't getting away with her meal. Never again.

She put on a sudden burst of speed, one that allowed her to catch up with her target. They didn't seem to notice her being there. With one large swipe of her paws, she grasped onto them, stopping them dead in their tracks.

"Ah, crud... Why do you do this to me, _Xirthanth_?" they asked.

"Why do you do this to _me_?" she said back, grasping the pudgy figure's neck, the most bland expression on her face . It turned out said figure was a mole, and they happened to be male. A stout nose jutted out of his tiny face; a filthy grey beard hung loosely underneath it. For a mole, generally creatures who were proud of their looks, his features were almost depressing to Xiranth, a pristine dragoness.

"Because you're easy to pick on. Duh." The mole rolled his eyes. "Nobody likes you."

Despite the rather impolite statement, it was one that didn't affect Xiranth. She loved solitude, and as melancholic as it sounded, she wasn't one for friends. "But it's just an apple. Surely you could steal one from... I dunno, the markets?"

"But the reaction is so worth it. Every single time." A toothy grin cracked his features. "I don't care about the apple."

"...What reaction?"

"Um..."

"I'm guessing you don't care about the civilians I just wiped out, either?" She tapped her foot, changing the subject.

"Nope. Not a single damn given."

"Huh. Okay... But seriously, next time you steal my apple, I'll cut that ugly head of yours clean off. Now scram."

With all said and done, she sent the mole flying through the sky, giving him a lift to the outside of town. One satisfied grunt later – and surprisingly no screams from the other end, confusing her – she retrieved her apple, nibbling on it gently, savouring its flavour. She could sit there all day, fruit in paw, peace and quiet. But her life was a rather hectic one. Things just wouldn't calm down for her.

Like, for instance, on this special occasion.

"Xiranth!" a voice called.

She slowly turned her head, narrowing her eyes. "What is it, _Gerald_?"

Gerald, a cheetah, ground to a halt, gasping for air. Dark spots covered his messy blue coat, and two eyes of the very same colour, wide and frightened, locked themselves on the dragoness, who stared back irritated with her own. A rusted blade rested at his side. If one was to gaze upon him, they'd think he was battle hardened. "You must come quickly! The fire golem is attacking the far wall again!"

As much as she'd rather everyone be swallowed whole, she needed to take care of her favourite spot: a little bench not even tourists would come across. "Ugh, fine. But only if you actually pay me this time. Seriously, it's been weeks since my last pay check."

"Yes, yes, I will! Now, come on! We have a city to save!"


	2. No Effort

No Effort

There had always been a question in the back of Xiranth's mind. It'd been there since her beginnings, and no matter how much effort she put into making it vanish, her attempts yielded nothing.

 _Why was she so powerful?_

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy blasting her opponents with death rays – heck, she enjoyed being One Punch Dragon. But she didn't have a clue as to why she had them. What made her so spectacular? And why her? When the Ancestors granted her life, they must've been incredibly idiotic. A being with so much power just shouldn't have existed.

Really, though, she generally paid it no mind. It didn't seem all _that_ important. Plus, she was trying to focus on the ensuing battle ahead of her.

No, she hadn't started fighting yet. Otherwise the fire golem clawing at the walls of Warfang would've already been reduced to cinders. Xiranth had to admit, its attempts to tear down the dragon city were pretty darn adorable. She could do a far greater job, and she usually had no intention of doing so, either.

"What are you waiting for, Xiranth?" Gerald asked, stamping his foot impatiently, his arms folded. "That thing's about to break through!"

"Admiring its efforts, _Gerald_." She turned her green eyes to him. "Don't doubt me."

"W-What? How could-"

"Seriously," she cut the shocked feline off, "don't think I haven't noticed you using my pay check to restore the city." She yawned slightly. "It's only fair if I... take a bit of a nap right now. You should be fine..."

She curled up on the ground, a smirk widening her muzzle. On that note, Gerald drew the rusty blade by his side.

"Get up and finish off that beast, Xiranth!" he screeched. "I order you too!"

Despite knowing how ineffective such a dull weapon would be against her gleaming scales, she couldn't help but glare at the cheetah. She lifted herself, stretched slightly, and tapped the blade with a talon. "The hell is that supposed to do?"

Gerald's aggressive stance sagged, but he kept the defence up, surprising Xiranth for once. He wasn't normally hostile. Nine times out of ten he could deal with her stunts. "Just... Kill the golem. I don't have time for your crap today."

"Gee, rude..." She chuckled quietly, but quickly responded with a drawn out, " _Fine_."

The dragoness grasped Gerald's old broadsword – by the blade, of course – and threw it towards the golem in the distance. She huffed.

"Happy, _Gerald_?"

The cheetah seemed to be about to say something harsh, but an unearthly roar interrupted him. Xiranth didn't bother looking, for she anticipated the outcome, but Gerald's jaw hung ajar. There was one last sound: the crushing of several buildings by a body as big as the Warfang dam.

She had pulled off crazier stunts...

"Th... That was my sword!"

"So?" She grinned cheerfully.

"P-Passed down for generations. By my father before me, and his father before that. And you just... threw it out like it was trash! You couldn't have just used your mouth?! What the actual fu-"

"You think I give a crap, _Gerald_?" She continued smiling, almost wanting to burst out laughing. "You think anyone gives a crap? I mean, nobody cares about my opinion, but I don't think anybody cares about your poor old sword. Buy a new one. Maybe you could kill a frogweed with it."

Poor Gerald was clearly offended by this; the expression on his face was evidence enough – his mouth agape, eyes glinting with anger. Xiranth only stared back blankly, a brow raised.

"Oh... Screw you!" Without a retort, he stormed off down the hill they were sitting atop. She laughed at his misfortune – if she was being honest, he definitely deserved the insanity she was giving him. After having her practically save the entirety of the dragon city on multiple occasions, it was about time she had fun of her own. Why couldn't she go back to the old days, be a child, cause havoc like she used to? Back to the times she found life actually worth the trouble...

The smile that once graced her maw faded, and she found herself slumping down, a paw resting below her chin. When she first realised she was the most powerful thing in existence, she was beyond excited, and she still had fun with it to this day. But there were some times when she desired to know her true purpose. OCs stronger than the purple dragon didn't just come around for nothing.

And sometimes she just wished life had more challenge. She could do just about anything. Anything but pass away, and she'd found that out after multiple supposedly fatal incidents.

Most of all, what she wanted was an opponent. One as mighty as her – as overpowered. An actual battle. Somebody worth a damn.

Was that really too much to ask for? Something that wouldn't fall after a single claw swipe? A single blast of her maw's energy beam?

Xiranth just needed a purpose...


	3. Siege Cliché

Siege Cliché

Xiranth set down the book she was once immersed in, now finished. To pass the time, she'd often pick up a good fantasy novel, one that would hopefully surpass her usually high expectations going into a story. This time, however, she didn't care if it was any good. She was only trying to get rid of her prior thoughts with a book, something else to think about. And now she was done.

She exhaled, looking out towards the sky from her balcony. The dragoness loved gazing upon the horizon, watching the sun set, the bird's migrating across the world at that time of year. They were more likeable than the oddballs living beneath her spire – the sounds they made were charming compared to the drunken burps and giggles covering her street. That tavern had always been busy...

A faint object in the sky caught her attention; she narrowed her eyes. It looked like the sun, yet that would've meant there were two hanging in the sky. And unlike the other, this one wasn't setting. In fact, it appeared to be approaching her, rather slowly, but moving towards her nonetheless. But who was she to pay it any mind? It was probably some strange cloud passing overhead.

She closed her eyes, sipping from a goblet of champagne beside her, relaxing. She pulled a pair of shades (swag) over her eyes, leaned her head back, and quickly dozed off, left to dream about her feelings.

* * *

Screams cut her blissful slumber off. Her eyes widened, her goblet being knocked over in bewilderment. She wondered what all the panic was about, and as she looked to the sky, she saw why.

Why, oh why was the sky full of skavenger ships?

Did she even care? Not really.

If it wasn't for the clearly explosive barrel heading straight for her favourite bench, however, she would've let the city deal with its foes. But her bench was being threatened, the spot she used to relax, the place she used for nibbling on apples.

"Oh, no you don't..."

Sunglasses still on, she blasted off, accidentally leaving her house in shambles through the force of her taking off. She wasn't one to mind, though – she'd just forcibly take one from someone else. The problem was in the skavenger ships.

She grabbed that barrel, and with no effort whatsoever, returned it to its sender. One shot was enough to detonate the other explosives on board; the battleship was turned to but a splinter in mere seconds.

Xiranth then halted herself directly in front of one, high in the sky. She gazed upon the crew on board, all staring back at her. And then they cracked up. Hysterical laughter that seemed contagious, somehow spreading across the entire armada. They weren't concerned? Had sky piracy reduced their brains to nothing?

"You destroyed a _singular_ ship," one called out above the racket, still chuckling. "Good job. Fly home, buddy, unless you want to be shot out of the sky!"

Xiranth only laughed back.

Using her immense speed, Xiranth grabbed the tip of the ship's foremast and launched it at another, obliterating several in the process. The laughter quickly died as the hounds realised what she'd just done. A smile curled her maw.

She barged into ship, piercing through as if she was a golden bullet. Several were destroyed by her flying prowess, and her element made short work of more. Good thing this fleet was almost endless, because she never wanted the fun to end. And there were thankfully no dragons trying to steal her fun; they were panicking on the streets, dashing about like lunatics, most likely trying to avoid the falling ship debris.

This continued for quite a while; she was having the time of her life. Flinging skavenger ships back and forth was about as entertaining as one might think. She did have to end her spree eventually, though. Peering towards the city, she noticed things weren't looking too good. In spite of her efforts to control the situation, the hounds had inflicted massive damage by the looks of things.

With a few beams of pure energy, she eliminated the rest of the fleet; she dusted off her paws and quickly soared back down to the city.

The level of destruction on Warfang was devastating. The city had been sliced in two – her doing, of course – and most of the buildings were in ruin, worthless heaps of stone, save a few. And the corpses... Xiranth would've vomited at the sight of so many mutilated bodies, but her stomach was made of steel. Probably literally.

She didn't exactly care, though. She didn't give a damn about much, excluding a few things. At least her bench was safe. That was all that mattered.

A moment later, she found herself on the city floor, gazing upon her surroundings. The sight to behold was much worse than she'd originally found. Warfang's streets were splattered burgundy, covered in rock and shattered bone, and the air was ash-laden, difficult to breathe for someone not Xiranth. The only place having not been ravaged by the sudden siege was her bench, but there did lay a creature atop it, surprisingly intact. She frowned before pacing over.

It turned out said creature was a mole, and not just any mole. This mole was the one that'd stolen her apple all those times. At first, she was tempted to remove him herself, send him to the heavens physically, but she realised his little, broken body was still moving, still breathing. Somehow, miraculously, he'd survived, despite the predicament. Xiranth found herself feeling a little sorry for the poor thing.

What was wrong with her? Was she developing... actual _feelings_?

Xiranth stopped herself for a moment, gazing down on him once more, and she found that she really did feel that way. Surprising to her, of course. She actually felt the need to assist him.

Picking up the wretched thing in her paws (and almost deciding to drop him because of his rank, smoky stench), she took off, moving slowly. For whatever reason, this mole felt just a little too important to leave alone, dying.

For whatever reason, she found herself caring a little. For the first time in her life. Maybe his actions had grown on her. Even if he liked thieving from her and calling her the wrong thing for reactions, something about him was different to every other denizen of Warfang.

He had guts. She decided she liked that.

Xiranth knew just the place to take him.


	4. Creating a Terrible Villain

Creating a Terrible Villain

Clouds as black as ash soared past Xiranth, lightning cracking like gunfire. The storm had only begun hours after the near total annihilation of the dragon city; if she hadn't been carrying a limp body, she would've carelessly weaved past the thunderbolts. He was already relatively broken, and speeding up was probably only going to break him more... Well, he did survive being thrown across the city. She still didn't want to take chances, though – he could've just landed in a body of water and been lucky enough to not be killed by the impact.

Still, she had to focus on the storm ahead, and not on the unrealistic circumstances running through her mind – she was already proof that the impossible could happen. She threaded herself through the storm, strong gales trying to force her back, hail pricking at her spinal scales. Though it was difficult to see, she could spot the location she was searching for through the clouds. A large building atop a cliff side, standing tall in spite of the violent bombardment.

Xiranth picked up the pace, diving towards the structure. She was almost there, only a few metres to go...

And then she crashed through the roof.

"Shade, could you come here?" she called, laying the mole on a sheet already on the floor coincidentally, making sure he wasn't being battered by the icy assault above by moving him. A young, feminine voice yelled back joyfully.

"Yay! Xiranth is back!" Little paws scampered through the house, quickly making their way to the golden dragoness. A little green dragon emerged from the doorway, a cheerful grin plastered to her face, even with her roof smashed. "What brings Xiranth back?!"

"Oh, nothing really," she answered. "Just a mole. Warfang was raided."

"Oh no, Warfang was raided?" A sad look replaced Shade's sudden joyousness. "Aww, poor Xiranth. Xiranth's favourite bench is gone..."

She quickly grinned. "Nah, that's the only thing that survived the damage."

And then she was happy again. "Yay for Xiranth! What's can I do for buddy over here?" She pointed at the mole's dying body. He looked as if he was struggling to hold onto life at this point, more so than he was before. He was pale, and an angry gash slicing across his stomach Xiranth had somehow only just managed to notice was swiftly tearing away at his grip on existence, a clearly visible scarlet through the thin sheets he was rugged up in.

She only cared a little, though. Only a _little_. "Buddy's dying. I figured you could whip up some magical healing concoction or somethin'."

Shade sprinted out of the room, not looking back, yelling, "Don't worry, let me make a potion for Xiranth's friend!"

Xiranth flopped over, shaking the structure as she did so. A paw made its way to her cheek and a sigh slipped from her muzzle. It wasn't going to take Shade long; she may have been young and seemingly incapable of much, but she sure was an intelligent dragon. She'd moved away from the dragon city a year or two ago. Nobody could take her seriously, what with the way she spoke with everyone, but under that young façade lay a big brain. The golden dragoness had realised her usefulness and taken a slight likening towards her. That and she was the only person who didn't treat her like dirt.

Thinking of dirt, Xiranth wondered what might've happened to Gerald. He'd been quick to leave her when she'd slain a mere fire golem with his archaic blade, destroying it in the process. Had he gone back to Warfang and met his end in the destruction? She sure hoped so, but something told her that wasn't the case. That seemed just too convenient.

"All done!" the young voice called from a different room. "I can heal Xiranth's friend!"

She shrugged. That had been quick. Whatever the case, she paced towards the young dragoness, a tiny corked flask in between her jaws. Xiranth retched silently, hesitantly taking the glass container from her slobbery maw. Not wasting any time, desiring to get the disgusting thing away from her, she stomped towards the mole.

"Xiranth's friend should be as good as new when he drinks this!" she squealed in delight. "A combination of green tea, spirit gems, and battery acid!"

It didn't matter what was inside the bubbly green fluid; she was starting to wonder why she was even trying to assist the poor thing in the first place. She shrugged, popped off the cork, and practically shoved the bottle down the mole's throat. He spluttered immediately, green plumes of smoke escaping his mouth.

Surprising Xiranth, the bottle shot into the air like a bullet, blasting into the heavens beyond. And without a moment to ponder the events unfolding before her, the mole rose from his bedsheets, a trail of wicked green smoke following his movements. His body levitated, rotated.

He stood.

"...What the hell, Shade?"

"I-I don't know what's... what's going on, Xiranth!" Shade stared wide-eyed at the mole, frozen in place. "Th-That... This isn't possible..."

"You didn't put battery acid in that one, did you?" She stamped her foot impatiently, awaiting an answer. It really showed how much she listened to others.

"I... might've, Xiranth."

The golden dragoness exhaled. "Well, shi-"

"PUNY MORTALINGS!" the mole bellowed. Xiranth's head snapped back to his position. "I, GIGUS, WILL DESTROY YOU ALL! FEAR ME, FOR I AM _ETERNAL_!"

"Geez. You _really_ did it this time, Shade."


	5. A Somewhat True Battle

A Somewhat True Battle

"YOU DARE SUMMON I, GIGUS, TO THIS MORTAL PLANE OF EXISTENCE!? I WILL CRUSH YOU!"

"Try me."

Gigus was annoying. _Very_ annoying.

A fiery green engulfed the mole's stubby paw, writhing around it. A low yawn escaped her parted maw and her eyes narrowed of their own accord. Her face screamed boredom, but as the mole's fist connected with her torso, she felt herself hastily leave the ground.

Shade's walls split on impact, the splinters stabbing into Xiranth's spine. The building quavered, and a piercing cry reverberated throughout its crumbling insides. Before she could halt her rapid descent, she felt her tumbling body collide with the icy grass outside.

She didn't stop to take a breather, or even to ponder the ridiculousness of the situation before her; Gigus really had just thrown her through an entire building. A smile grew on her muzzle. The genuine kind.

Perhaps he was the one. The one who had the strength to eliminate her in combat. Could it possibly be true?

She lifted herself into the air, blasting towards her adversary with all the determination she could muster. "This is really it," she said. "He's it!"

Wild laughter resounded throughout the young dragon's once humble abode. He was clearly audible, his voice a ghastly baritone over the falling structure, collapsing as if it was the second Well of Souls. If she wasn't Xiranth, totally perfect OC, she would've given up hope, let the building pulverise every last bone in her body. But, of course, that wasn't the case.

When she turned the bend, Gigus seemed to spot her through the destruction, his beady eyes widening. She blasted towards him, fist in front of her, grin cracking her maw. He didn't have a second to react.

Much like her, the mole crashed through several walls, truly knocking the structure down. The rubble fell upon the golden dragoness, but she quickly tapped it with her paw, her stone imprisonment disintegrating before her eyes. The little dragon, Shade, was nowhere to be seen; Xiranth guessed she'd fled the area before she was trapped within the rubble.

The glaring issue before her, however, was Gigus' location. Xiranth hadn't whacked him hard – she didn't want to be proven wrong so swiftly – but he'd vanished as well. Her grin was replaced by utter disappointment. She'd felt challenged, the adrenaline once pumping through her veins. And now it was all gone.

Never had she felt so melancholy about winning a battle. If only he'd been able to last... She might've fulfilled her dreams, obtained an actual purpose, proven to not be the most powerful creature in existence.

It'd been idiotic to think all that.

Seething anger flooded her mind. There came a dreadful scream, and a lucid ray of energy erupted from her maw, obliterating the nearest mountain in the process. Her life was nothing but a joke. What was the point in it?

Xiranth gritted her teeth. Those damned Ancestors... If she could fly to the afterlife, she would beat every single one to a pulp. She'd destroy the forces holding the world together. Perhaps a world explosion would finally kill her.

She doubted it, though.

She couldn't stay here forever, for she needed something to calm her down. A village or two to terrorize. That sounded like fun. Loads of fun...

A thought occurred to her. Where was Shade? Xiranth still needed a proper explanation for Gigus. If she hadn't run away... Was she under the remaining rubble not yet destroyed by her?

She _had_ heard screaming...

A flap of her wings later, the rocks blew away as if they were feathers. She peered at the ground. At first, there was nothing – grass and hail. But amongst the long blades, she spotted little specs of red, and a slightly different hue of green.

Xiranth exhaled, knowing what was to come. She took to the skies for just a moment, landing in that oddly tinged spot. She reached down, attempting to pick up whatever it was...

There was nothing but strangely coloured grass there. No mangled corpse. Nothing at all.

She chuckled slightly to herself. Shade must've gotten away. Hopefully she went to hide in a cave or something along those lines.

"Meh." She shrugged. "I'm gonna go kill people now."


	6. Middle of Nowhere

Middle of Nowhere

By now, the hail had somehow turned to snow, the land now enveloped in its biting embrace, the blizzard harsh. Stumbling through the snow stood a golden dragoness, a stark contrast to the wintery-white ground, as straight-faced as she could possibly be. One step after another, not bothered using her wings to blast through the snowstorm.

She didn't see the point in doing so. There was no point to anything at all.

She'd thought about going out and murdering everything in sight, but... What would that achieve? It wasn't going to make her much happier, she realised.

It was difficult to see the point in doing anything when whatever she tried didn't make a singular difference. To her, to the world, to _anyone_.

She shook her head, trying to focus on the storm. It certainly was dense – the scenery had totally vanished behind a wall of frozen water vapour – but that didn't stop her from noticing a faint amber light piercing through it. Even without a pair of super eyes, one could see it without trouble.

Could it be a beacon? A building? The ferocity of this storm was slightly unnerving, not to mention exasperating, despite it being incapable of affecting her physically. Shelter sounded heavenly.

She kept up the pace, but didn't want to rush into it unintentionally, smashing it to bits. There was no real reason for it, but she just wanted to be certain she actually made it to whatever the glow was without turning it to ashes before she made it.

Her question was answered soon thereafter. Although barely visible, she saw splotches of brown amongst the snowfall. A few rectangles, a roof – she could make out the bleary objects. But why was this lonesome building seemingly out in the middle of nowhere? There was nothing for miles, yet inside that nothing laid a stupidly random something.

Approaching the blob, she made out a door, wooden and with a silver handle. It clearly wasn't big enough to allow a dragoness of her stature entrance, but that was totally besides the point. If there was a house, it was hers. Did it matter who owned it? She didn't think so.

This was bigger than a standard, everyday house, however, being almost mansion-like in shape. The more she observed it, the more eager to learn of what she was peering upon she became.

Then, the door opened.

"Hello?" a blurred figure standing inside the doorway called, gazing back at her. "Who's out there?"

Xiranth smirked. They sure were going to get a bit of a shock to see a dragon out in the snow, wanting the house for herself. "Just your friendly, neighbourhood dragon," she yelled back.

"Xiranth?"

Oh. It was Gerald.

She scowled. Why of every creature on this worthless planet did it have to be Gerald? And why was he even out there? He sure as hell didn't reside within the middle of these forsaken grounds; although his original home was in the now fallen dragon city, even if he'd been searching for a place to stay, why did he have to come to the very spot she was treading towards?

It was just her luck, wasn't it? Those Ancestors were going to pay dearly when she got her claws around their slimy throats.

"Yes, _Gerald_. It's me," she shouted back, her previous enthusiasm dwindling drastically. "Can I come in?"

"... After what you did?" He seemed shocked she would ask such a thing. "No! Get away from me, you-"

She didn't care about taking her time anymore. Blasting forth, she crashed through the doorway, knocking Gerald several feet across the floor.

"Ooh, that's a nice sofa, _Gerald_." She flopped over on top of it – she felt it deflate under her weight, but that didn't matter. She was there to make his life as miserable as possible.

Bathing in the soft firelight of a candle nearby, she deviously smiled at Gerald's attempts to get off the floor. He grunted quietly, a paw over his snout. When he finally did get to his feet, he stared at Xiranth, his fury probably through the roof.

"You get off that thing right-"

"Sh..." Xiranth placed a claw over her mouth. "Can't you see I need rest? I've been stuck in the snow for hours, _Gerald_." She shook off the snow covering her scales for good measure, watching it pile up on the floor. The feline's muzzle dropped.

"Y-You..." His paw moved to his forehead. "You are the most imbecilic creature I've ever met. As rotten as a death hound..."

The dragoness angled her head, pouting. "Hey, that's not nice. You obviously need a lesson on accommodating visitors. Lesson one: don't insult them as soon as they walk through the door."

Gerald's eyes glinted with a murderous anger. Something told Xiranth he wasn't particularly fond of her; at least, he wasn't anymore. But hey, he'd brought it upon himself, right?

"You think you're a visitor?" he grumbled. "You're no visitor, you're a trespasser! Get _out_ of my house!"

"Wait, your house?" She frowned. "I didn't know you owned a house out in the middle of nowhere. Don't tell me little old _Gerald_ has a house out here."

"Oh... Shut up."

Feeling like she'd won the argument, she hummed quietly to herself, resting her head on the sofa's glossy pillows. They felt expensive. She had full intention of ruining them later, but for now, a nap seemed like a good thing to try.

"Are you seriously going to sleep there now?"

"Yep."

Gerald sighed. "Why do I even bother?"

"Because you love me."

Gerald didn't pay her any mind, shrugging off her remark. He waltzed off, leaving the golden dragoness to her own devices.

At least she could catch up on some sleep now that he was gone... even though she didn't exactly need it. There were perks to being the most powerful thing in all existence sometimes, but she felt the need to this time around.

There was something just so oddly appealing about sleep this time around. Heading to the realm of dreams... She wanted to forget it all. Lay low, no distractions whatsoever.

This felt like the perfect opportunity to.


	7. Bad Exposition

Bad Exposition

An endless abyss; absolute nothingness. When Xiranth thought she'd awoken, this was the sight she found before her. Furthermore, an expanse of rocky platforms littering the skies, levitating, mildly befuddled her, but she realised the logic in it didn't matter. Again, she was proof something like logic didn't exist.

"Your path is a long one, young dragon."

Xiranth tried to twist her head in the direction of the ragged voice, but she couldn't locate its owner. It came from nowhere at all, but it echoed around her at the same time, reverberating. Yet that wasn't what she was surprised by.

Had they seriously just called her _young_?

She was about to go off her head, maybe tear them to bits if she could find them, but she kept herself composed. "Who are you, whatever you are?"

The tone seemed to think for a moment before speaking up. "You may simply call me the Chronicler."

Strange titles aside, she was still confused. Where was she? If this was the realm of the Ancestors, perhaps she was better off not meeting her end. Plus, this narrator, the voice from nowhere, unnerved her slightly. They felt... powerful. Not to mention how irritated she already was by them, of course. But maybe they were a good target to bash.

"I must ask you something, offer you a proposition. I believe you want what I am about to say."

Xiranth peered into the nothingness, just to make her feel like she was speaking to at least something. It felt a little less awkward. "No, I don't. You'd have no idea what I want, and I doubt any of you Ancestors want to deal with me. I've got plans for you..."

"I am no Ancestor, young one," they exclaimed. "I am, however, a dragon, just as you are yourself. If I was one of the Ancestors, I'd probably ignore someone of the likes of you. Slaying the Ancestors? An unachievable goal."

"I bet you a gold piece I can find the Ancestors, narrator." She smirked back.

There was silence for a minute or two. The Chronicler's ancient tone came forth eventually, however. "...Deal. But that's not why I'm here, not to gamble with you. I have to ask you something, Xiranth. It is of the utmost importance."

They knew her name without her telling them it. That was a sure-fire way to know if an old person was wise. But if they were so wise, why did they have to ask her things?

"Nah. I'm fine."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pretty please?"

Xiranth glared daggers into the skies, sighing. "Fine... Only if you show yourself," she added with her signature smirk.

"That is simply an impossibility, young dragon," the Chronicler explained. "I can only speak to you via your dreams; I can't materialise wherever you please."

"Sure you can." Xiranth winked. "Nothing's impossible when I'm around!"

The voice exhaled. Xiranth's gleeful grin continued to widen. "I guess I can attempt it... HRGHHHHHHH!"

The Chronicler popped into existence, an elderly dragon of blue scales. He resembled someone she'd seen in tomes and stories, another dragon by the name of Ignitus, Guardian of Fire, but this obviously wasn't him. The Guardian of Fire wasn't allowed to have blue scales.

"Huh. I can do that." The Chronicler frowned. "We have gotten off track, however, Xira-"

"Hey, you wanna play blackjack?" she interrupted him, pulling a deck of playing cards out of thin air.

"We are running out of time..."

"Oh, a single game couldn't hurt."

Again, the Chronicler sighed. "If this is what it takes for me to be able to ask you a favour, I guess I have no choice."

The two played a game of blackjack. It ended up being multiple games, and it was fun... Xiranth won every time because she cheated somehow, but that was unknown to the old dragon. He stroked his wispy white beard several times, confused.

"You are incredibly fortunate, young dragon. But now, onto what I have to tell y-

"Hey, you wanna go to an amusement park? I can summon one in this dream, don't worry." Xiranth chuckled quietly to herself; she was totally annoying him.

"Xiranth, I really must talk to you, so if you would please listen..."

"Please listen to me."

"No! I already said no!" The Chronicler had finally snapped, and she was to blame. What was new? "I came to speak with you privately, not to satisfy you. You are almost as bad as Cynder..."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, Mister Grouchy... What do you need to tell me?"

The Chronicler buried his head in his paws for a moment, rubbing his cyan orbs. When he focused them on her again, they carried a new sense of wisdom. "Listen closely, for this is the only chance I'll get."

* * *

 _By now, you must know about Gigus. You fought him before, witnessed his power. I come to tell you about him, and to ask you something of great importance._

 _Gigus is a corrupt, reckless spirit – a spirit hell-bent on turning the world to ruin. He wants nothing more than to conquer it, and make it a living hell for everyone else. And he's much too powerful now for anybody ordinary to stop him._

 _He was a mistake accidentally created by the Ancestors, a flaw of the creation of this world's magic – its fuel. Heavy magic sustains our planet; it keeps it from going up in flames. Without the influence of our Ancestors, we'd all be nothing more than carcasses, if that. We may not have even come to be – to exist._

 _In an effort to stop that from happening, they blessed us with powers beyond our imagination. Us dragons keep our world from being reduced to the hellfire it was once destined for. We don't notice it, but every second each and every dragon's power is being sapped to fuel the planet. The amount is rather small, though._

 _Some of this elemental energy given to us slipped through the cracks, however – or in this case, the claws of the Ancestors._

 _Gigus, the restless spirit, drained the energy from our world's core for centuries, building up the immense power he now holds today. He only needed to be released by somebody; a dragon willing to mix a special brew._

 _When your friend, Shade, empowered him with battery acid (even if that doesn't seem to make any sense whatsoever), she practically doomed our planet. An immortal being such as himself isn't going down easily, maybe not at all. That's why I ask for your assistance. You and only you have the abilities necessary to put him down for good._

 _I know the idea of murder is frightening, and hopefully not one you are used to, but you are our only chance, Xiranth. The journey will be a strenuous one, and he's probably already built up an empire by this point, preparing to devastate the Dragon Realms and its surrounding countries. With your help, though, we can put an end to this._

 _So, I ask you this. Take Gigus down... and then maybe I'll take you up on that amusement park offer..._

* * *

"Woah, that's a lot of exposition there, buddy." Xiranth frowned. "You really know how to play old wise guy."

The Chronicler shook his head. "That is besides the point. I need your help. What do you say, Xiranth?"

The dragoness pondered it for a moment. World saving, of course, didn't appeal to her at all. But if it meant Gigus was still alive, and that she would get to fight him again... It seemed as if she was being granted an offer she just couldn't refuse. And showing the Chronicler an amusement park? The icing on the cake.

"Yeah, I'll do it," she said, " but where is he exactly?"

"Boyzitbig. But the journey is a long one and you'll need-"

"'Kay, thanks. Bye."

Xiranth flopped over on the ground, waiting patiently for herself to wake up. Sure enough, she did relatively quickly, completely ignoring the Chronicler's final words. They were probably full of useless information, anyway. Probably.

One thing was for absolute certain, though. She was going spirit hunting.

This battle was going to be awesome...


	8. Revenge

Revenge

She opened her eyes. Her chest was numb – _cold_ – and her stomach felt surprisingly empty. Furthermore, she could feel a sticky moisture slowly oozing down the sides of her gleaming maw.

Something was off...

Lifting a brow, Xiranth wiped her muzzle off with her paw before peering upon it. A thin line of wet crimson trailed down her foreleg. The substance looked like blood.

 _Her_ blood...

Choosing to focus on other things as it clearly didn't matter, she tried to leap off the couch. Something stopped her, however. Somehow by someone, she'd been tied to the object with thick chains, and... a long, silver blade seemed to have pierced her torso.

"Huh. Somebody tried to assassinate me... Too bad that's impossible." She cast her eyes downward, sighing. "I wonder if it was _Gerald_..."

Xiranth found her guess to be correct seconds after, for Gerald was staring at her only metres away, his face contorted with shock. Did he seriously think a blade would be her undoing? She'd been supposedly mortally wounded so many times now and she'd always shrugged it off. Gerald watched her come out of worse situations totally unscathed, so why he'd thought this might work was beyond her. Perhaps he was far more idiotic than she'd previously thought.

The heavy chains came off first, shattering when she lay her claws on them, then the sword as she quickly yanked it out of herself. Surprisingly enough, despite her prior thoughts on the predicament, there was no fleshy hole left inside her. Xiranth frowned and licked her maw... Why was her face covered in tomato sauce? Had Gerald tried to drown her in sauce? As absolutely ridiculous as that seemed, it definitely felt like something he would try, especially after this.

"So, _Gerald_ ," she said as she tossed the silver sword to the side, "what were you trying to achieve?"

Gerald kept quiet. He straightened himself and seemed to find the floorboards an interesting thing to study. She shook her head.

"Did you actually try to murder me while I was asleep?" She glared at him, but he remained silent. A malicious smirk replaced her straight face. "I didn't think you were that dumb."

He broke his silence. "It was a matter of safety." Unfortunately, his answer was worthy of being called his stupidest remark yet.

The grin grew ever so slowly. "A matter of safety... You know, if you'd left me alone, you would probably have been more safe." She leaped off the couch and started the walk over to him. Much like her smile, the look of horror on his face became more evident the nearer she got.

"You know how sick and tired I've gotten of you, _Gerald_?" she asked him, claws scraping the floorboards below her, barely audible. He visibly gulped and shook his head before beginning to move to the back of the room. "I have been _this_ close to straight up ending you." She demonstrated with a paw – her talons were only inches apart.

"But you've taken it way too far now," she continued, increasing her pace. "You've stabbed me, put chains around me... Is my behaviour really worthy of something like that? I don't know about you, but I think I deserve better."

She paused when the blue feline backed into the wall, his breathing tremulous. Her grin vanished. "This, though, is different... This is what we call revenge."

Xiranth pushed herself forward and wrapped her paw around his neck. He desperately tried to pull away, but his efforts were to no avail. The dragoness chuckled at his misfortune.

"This is how it feels to be around you every day, _Gerald_." She locked her emerald-green eyes with his. Gerald continued to struggle in her grip, but nothing yielded results. He was surely dead...

Then she let go of him, booped his little nose, and took off into the sky, splitting the roof. The last thing she wanted was to keep talking to Gerald like that, and she definitely didn't want to grasp his grubby coat any longer. She had better things to do than murdering him. And after all they'd been through together, pestering him was too much fun. Torturing him with words was far more satisfying than sending him to the Ancestors.

Plus, she had a dream to follow as well. Boyzitbig was her destination, not a random mansion in the middle of nowhere. Gerald could wait a bit; she had a battle to take part in. Although she did want to see the reaction on his face – it had to be priceless – she could wait a little longer for that. Her objective as of now was more appealing.

Good thing her punch hadn't slain Gigus. He'd probably materialised elsewhere when he realised he'd been faced with a bit of problem. Oh, how Xiranth loved causing problems...

Barrel rolling in the air, she blasted out south towards Boyzitbig. "Gigus, here I come!"


	9. The Last Battle

The Last Battle

Boyzitbig. Magma spewed out of its top, the ashen land covered in fiery veins. Xiranth knew this was the correct place; after all, it was the only volcano within the Dragon Realms.

Levitating just slightly above the volcano was Gigus. His little arms were directed at the sky, a motion that had Xiranth believing he was drawing some kind of energy from the inferno below. The red embers spiralling around him were further evidence of that.

Gigus seemed to have an army too, one made of strange, mechanical beasts defending the path to the volcano before her. Their eyes glowed a luminous green, their metallic faces burning with hatred. Huge claws, wicked sharp tail blades... Despite their terrifying appearance, they looked fun to smash.

"MORTAL!" Gigus screamed – he could obviously see her from the position he was in; her glistening scales probably gave her away, a stark contrast to the black landscape around her. "YOU DARE ENTER MY PLANE?"

"Yup." A cheerful smile settled on her maw. The mole, from his position in the sky, seemed furious.

"SUCH INSOLENCE! I, GIGUS, WILL SHOW YOU THE TRUE MEANING OF PAIN!"

The fiery particles swirling around his form stopped, dropping back into the pit from whence they came. He put a fist forward and something whirred and spun amongst the crowd. His army of machines stood, their eyes turning a hateful scarlet.

Xiranth almost wanted to laugh. _This_ was his attempt at stopping her? Did he even remember who she was? She'd smacked him so hard he'd practically vanished... Just thinking about that made her slightly angry.

"Sure," she said. "You do that, Gigus."

"GRAH!" He clenched a fist. "ATTACK, MY MINIONS!"

At once, the iron beasts charged her. She let them come. She wanted to see what they could do to her before she ended their miserable, metallic lives.

As one of the creatures neared her, she yawned. It growled menacingly, baring its fangs, before throwing itself at her. She half-expected some form of pain, but that wasn't what came. What actually came forth sounded like something breaking. Funnily enough, the monster lay at her paws, shattered metal littering the ground around her. They were breaking themselves on her.

Xiranth stared at Gigus sternly, the robots continuing to leap at her, never obtaining results. "The hell is this, Gigus? I thought you were actually offering a challenge..."

"WHAT? I HAD TO PAY FOR THOSE AND THEY CAN'T DESTROY SUCH A MEASLY LITTLE DRAGON! PATHETIC!"

Her glare intensified. "I'm afraid you got scammed, bud. These things are literally trash."

"I'LL DEAL WITH YOU MYSELF THEN, MORTAL!"

The mole blasted forth, green tendrils swallowing his form. Xiranth wasn't sure what he was trying to do – perhaps it was a way to reduce the ferocity of the impact on the ground, or to somehow increase his speed – but it didn't matter all that much. That same smirk pulled at her mouth once more. It was finally time for the moment she'd been waiting for all her life.

It was time to fight an equal.

She outstretched a clenched paw, easily predicting his movements. The ball of tendrils faded and their fists connected, the world shuddering in response. The ground cratered as if hit by a meteor. The grin didn't disappear.

Gigus did several flips after pushing away from her, landing safely on the ground in front of her. "STRONG, I SEE... HAVE I MET YOU BEFORE?"

She almost face-pawed, but stopped herself just in time. "...No, I don't think we have. I'm Xiranth. How do ya do?"

"GIGUS. IT'S A PLEASURE," he boomed. Somehow, so suddenly, he'd changed from wanting to skin her alive to being oddly kind... Xiranth really wanted to know what was wrong with everyone on her planet.

"LONG I HAVE WAITED TO ARISE FROM THE DEPTHS. LONG HAVE I WAITED FOR A CHALLENGE. YOU ARE WORTHY."

She chuckled quietly. "Same here, bud. Been waiting forever."

"WE SEEK A COMMON GOAL, MORTAL." Gigus folded his little arms. "I OFFER YOU THIS. FIGHT ME. IF I AM VICTORIOUS, I WILL CRUSH THIS WORLD. IF YOU SUCCEED, YOU MAY DO WHAT YOU WISH WITH ME, FOR I AM IMMORTAL AND CANNOT DIE."

"Heh. We'll see about that. I'm in."

"FANTASTIC," he laughed. "HAVE AT THEE."

Xiranth let his second punch connect with her torso. Just as she'd wanted, she felt herself leave the blackened floor. She stopped herself fairly quickly, but the raw power in that hit oozed awesomeness. Rather than letting it happen again, however, she threw one at Gigus from the air as he was flying towards her.

The ground ruptured around Gigus, molten lava spilling through the cracks left in his wake. Xiranth heard something on him shatter, but didn't pay it any mind. That was, until he spoke up.

"YOU'VE BROKEN THE CRYSTAL THAT CONTAINS MY TRUE POWER. YOU'VE MADE ME A GOD."

A green orb pulsing with pure energy grew rapidly in size, quickly careening from his fingertips into her. She widened her eyes for a moment.

For the first time in her life, she felt just a little challenged.

The sphere detonated, throwing her across the island. Everything once standing in her wake was incinerated.

The a pillar of stone miles away stopped her, one she swiftly grabbed with her two feet, ready to swing it at the approaching mole, flying in that same ball of tendrils. She really wanted to yell "batter up", but that would've made even her wince.

She swatted him into the volcano as if he was an insect. Of course, the volcano collapsed completely because why wouldn't it? Tremors shook the ground; the civilians of Warfang, if they were still around, would've been able to feel them.

A bloodied Gigus shouted furiously as he moved towards her once more. The more he got hit, the more radiant the aura of green illumination surrounding him seemed to become. It was almost blinding; Xiranth had to scrutinise the light to see him.

She stopped his next hit with her paw, grabbing his fist and pegging him into floor below her, whatever was left of it. Before he could get up, she dived towards him.

"It's been fun, Gigus... But I really should end this."

Xiranth drove what she thought would be her final punch into his skull, pushing him into the ground, an agonising screech escaping his mouth. The world felt like a ball of breadcrumbs under her paw, so soft and malleable. She could push him into the core of her planet with her power. Heck, she could blow the world up by destroying its core...

But that wasn't what she wanted. She had a Gerald to annoy, a Shade to find, a Chronicler to appease (despite how much she didn't like following orders), and now a Gigus to do her bidding... if she hadn't already murdered him. Something compelled her to leave him in peace, though... Something like mercy.

So, she stopped.

The shaking finally came to a halt. She stared away from the carnage she'd caused, got up, and started shuffling off. Gigus' voice came forth once more, however.

"Even with my powers multiplied... you still managed to best me."

She stopped, sighing, not caring enough to pay attention to the decrease in volume within his tone. "Yeah, I guess... You were strong, Gigus."

"But I'm not done yet."

"W-"

Her jaw shook from an unexpected collision, her body flew. Without a chance to react, her body was pummelled, an uncountable amount of strikes hitting her all at once. The sky was lit up in a sea of emerald green, the world seemingly collapsing under the sheer force of the attack.

For the first time in forever, she felt... pain, however little it was.

Gigus screamed uncontrollably, piercing to the ears. Xiranth hit the ground with a thud. The beatings stopped as suddenly as they'd started.

"Surely that's done it... You fought well, Xiranth," he said. "You truly are strong; the myriad of foes I've fought in my lifetime do not compare to you. But you were not strong enough for me. Not strong enough for ONE SUCH AS I-"

"Shut up."

She leaped to her feet, stretching her ligaments as she landed. Gigus' beady eyes broadened.

"Geez, you're cocky." She winked. "A bit like me. But too cocky... Like, annoyingly so."

"Y-You... YOU MAKE ME WANT TO GIVE THIS MY ALL!" He started levitating again; she watched him do so blankly.

"Sure. Go ahead."

He growled. "I'll show you... I WILL SHOW THIS WORLD THE TRUE MEANING OF TORTURE! THE FIRES OF HELL WILL INCINERATE YOU ALL!"

A sphere built up in his palms, akin to the ball from earlier. She didn't move a muscle, her expression plain.

"TAKE SOME OF _THIS_!"

She gazed upon the energy careening towards her, yawned once, and decided to open her maw. "Alrighty then. I guess I'll get serious."

Her signature beam escaped her mouth, a continuous stream of god-like power.

" _No_!" a voice shouted from within her mind. "Stop, Xiranth! You'll kill us all!"

She didn't stop. She didn't care any longer for the world. She blocked the voice out.

The orb and her laser clashed.

It cut through the ball and hit Gigus.

One final scream echoed around her.

The world exploded.


	10. Til the End of Time

'Til The End of Time

"...A-Am I dead? I... I can't feel anything."

"Heh. You survived that. You really are strong, Gigus."

Xiranth sat her flank upon a bench floating aimlessly through nothingness. There was nothing left, save for the stars, a rock, and the aforementioned bench. The world was gone.

Gigus was almost dead; it was a miracle he was still breathing, having been sliced in two. His lifeblood pooled in the air, green, a constant stream twisting and turning behind them both. Xiranth wanted to pity him, but after the work he'd put her through, she refused to do so.

"Ha... This is really how it ends," he muttered. "I thought I couldn't be beaten, but... you were too strong, Xiranth. Too strong..."

Gigus spluttered. Xiranth looked to the stars and wondered how she was speaking in the vacuum of space... Not like it mattered at this point, but still. It confused her.

"I never asked to be this strong, you know." He turned his head to her, and she quickly gazed back. "The pain of living with just so much power... It became a joke. You must know how that feels."

She nodded sadly. "Yeah, totally."

"You've... satisfied my lust for battle, however," he continued. "But I... had doubts you were trying. You were hardly trying to actually best me."

She remained silent. After all this, he could finally tell.

"You were holding back, weren't you?"

Xiranth scrutinised the stars around her. They shone down upon her, an endless ocean of dark reds and luminous blues. It was as if the Ancestors themselves were peering down on her, deeply disappointed in her actions... She was ashamed to admit it, but she regretted doing what she'd done. Where was she supposed to go now? What was she supposed to _do_ now?

"Eh, I... I guess I got what I wanted in the end, anyway. It doesn't matter." He seemed to read her mind. She sighed. "But now that it is done, I can't help but look back upon myself and... and feel foolish. What was I supposed to do after this?"

There was no answer to that. Blowing up the world... What a silly thing to pursue.

"Oh well." He closed his eyes and seemed to sink into the asteroid a little. "There is... no point fretting about it anymore. Thank you, Xiranth. You... You've helped me in more ways than you can possibly imagine."

"...You're not gonna just die on me now, are you?" she blurted out, feeling just slightly worried about him. "You don't want to ride this asteroid forever with me?"

"I think I'll sit that one out," he breathed. "Again, thank you... Thank you, _Xirthant_."

His quavering breaths came to a sudden halt. It took her a moment to realise he was actually gone, yet only because of the insult to her name. Something told her a bit of that mole had still been left inside of his newer, twisted form. Not Gigus, but the mole who'd loved stealing her apples.

Oh, the memories. Despite how unpleasant they'd been at the time, they felt the complete opposite now. Those had been good times...

How she wanted to go back to the Dragons Realms.

How she wanted to go back _home_.

But here she was, forced to ride the currents of space until the end of time itself. It was all her doing, and there was nothing she could do to rectify it.

She only felt a cold emptiness in her heart.

* * *

 **Wow, it's over. That got too depressing for a trollfic. XD**

 **There's really not much I can say. I mean, it was a blast to write this thing. I had _so_ much fun concocting this train wreck of a story. It felt good to sit down and not have to worry about anything at all.**

 **If you're reading this, though, you might be wondering, "What comes after this?" Well, you can expect something just a little more serious out of me next time. At the time of writing this author's note, I've already finished up six chapters of something new, an adventure story I've had great pleasure writing the lore and characters for. It's no sequel to Dragon's Ruin (because that story is dead and is terrible XD) but I hope it's something all my lovely readers will enjoy. I hate everything I write, but I dunno. Maybe this will be decent. XD**

 **I hope you've enjoyed COX as much as I did writing it. I didn't put all that much time into it, and I was already starting the plan for the new book while I was writing it, but eh.**

 **Perhaps I'll see you in the next book. Until then.**


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